


Death's Reign

by Arcaratus



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Death!Lena, Dying!Ruby, F/F, Gen, Grieving Mom!Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-28 03:18:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12596988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcaratus/pseuds/Arcaratus
Summary: Death Lena is forced to accompany one Samantha Arias and her dying daughter, Ruby, as both struggle to come to terms with the latter's eventual death and journey to the care of the Underworld. Of course, Reign Mom Sam is not okay™ with that and so must make Lena's life even more of a living hell until she realizes that maybe death isn't for everyone.





	1. A Misunderstanding Occurs

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 2017 stab at NaNo with a fic about Lena watching Sam watch her daughter die. If you haven't figured it out by now, I have really strange ideas circulating in my head. Don't be mean if it sucks, but if you could be helpful about it, criticize this all you want.

Lena phased through the bright, living world of joy and pain, forever searching; searching for the truth in her empty peace. She gazed out and saw the heroes flourishing by, forever searching; searching for purpose in their endless perfection. The souls wandering through, forever searching; searching for meaning in their empty death. The forsaken screaming in their agony, forever searching; searching for a moment of hope in their empty hearts.

 _I never quite understood the hype for repentant sinners to choose meaningless purgatory over eternal damnation, or heroes sacrificing their lives in exchange for endless revelry,_ Lena mused, ignoring it all in hopes of being called back to the world of the briefly living. It was where her soul (if she had one) was called, the one place she should have liked to stay forever - and the one place she could not.

At last they heard a haunting call, a sound in the distance, reverberating throughout. And at once she went through, emerging into a cold and sterile room filled with an incessant beeping. _Who is it? Who will it be? Who will be the one?_ Straining to find the source of the beeping, Lena listened and sang in tune as loud pulses of sound accompanied the tantalizing temptation posed by the brink of death. _Ah ha._ A slumbering body, ineffably peaceful in its doom. _I’m here for you._

“Ruby, I’m here. Are you up?” Grasping tightly onto a distressed backpack, a dark-haired woman came into view. There was nothing particularly spectacular about her appearance. She was simply a mother concerned for her child, but still, something called to Lena.

Lena stayed silently, waiting for the woman to leave – she had all the time in the world and would not begrudge those who did not a last chance to say goodbye.

The figure stirred.

Lena sighed. _Not today._

The woman, what was her name? She looked up, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Lena shrunk in on herself, molding herself into the shadows. Truly, there was no point to this, but fun was something she rarely experienced.

“Who are you?” The woman’s voice was sharp and refined as steel, precise and angled. “What are you doing in my daughter’s hospital room? Who do you think you are?” The emotion was hard to place – anger? Sadness? It was cold and sweet, like tears on a warm summer day. It had the taste of someone who was intimately acquainted with losing everything they loved and still persisted.

_I am Death._

The Mother’s eyes bugged out, miming a fly; Lena was sure she was a perfect mirror. Who was this woman and how could she know her? _I am Death,_ she repeated, _but I am not here for you._ As one, the two turned to look at the still form.

“No. No, you can’t have her!” The woman spread her arms out and stood between Lena and her daughter, her movements fueled by desperation to believe that she could stop Death. “She is alive, she’s going to stay that way, and you cannot have her!”

 _Not yet._ But Lena was patient, and she had learned to bide her time as the millennia whittled away and she remained in her prison below the world.

“Not now, not ever!” As she spoke, the woman’s eyes began to dart around, and her hands began to scrabble about – she was reaching for something – anything. When her flailing appendages met empty air, she slumped down, at once defeated and despondent in the face of her loss. “Don’t take her from me.”

Lena was not supposed to understand _pity_ (or any emotion, really), yet her very being cried in tune with the mother’s grief, as if the billions of souls from her realm beseeched her for this one gift, a forgiveness of the debt owed to any who took life and forgot death. _Let her live,_ they said, _and you may take what you will from us._ Lena resisted. _No! There is an order between life and death, an eternal trade that no one person can defy._ _Death is the natural law._ As the struggle took place, the woman before here’s visage hardened in an icy resolve. Leave, her impassive expression said, you are not wanted, nor needed here.

With one last look at the scene before her, Lena vanished, reappearing amidst her own personal Hell, and sighed. _Why do they hate me?_ There was a time that just the mention of death would bring honor, reverence, slight tinges of fear, but still respect. As mankind had aged, evolved, the respect had turned into anger and hatred as the apex predator found that it could not defeat one last enemy. But Lena, even as Death, was not evil – she just could not bring herself to care about the dead and so continued to do her job and follow the extinguishment of every last flame of life that existed. Compassion did not a good person make, but Lena had never claimed to be a paragon of good, or whatever people perceived as good, she simply existed and that was all she could ever hope to do.

For a moment, Lena floated around her world, stopping to watch as even those sworn to exist under her command existed without her. _I suppose this is what they call an existential crisis,_ she mused, _I seem to have no higher purpose and so I seek some form of meaning in my life._

When she felt the pull once more, Lena immediately chased after it, ignoring the calls of those with nothing else to do but beseech her for mercy. _As if the powers that be would even think about giving the incarnation of Death something so plebeian as compassion._ She did not care, and she would never care, despite what recent events had made her think.

“You again!” The mother was roused from her near deathly slumber to startle and point at Lena. “What claim do have you to this land now?”

A stagnant silence surrounded the two, interrupted only by the staccato beeping machines, and Lena thought. _I am Death. What do you imagine could call to me?_

“There is no Death that I can speak of,” The woman said, “And there shall not be any death in this room until we are gone, that I can assure you of, so you have no business, nor any right to remain here.”

_How assured of you, knowing your darling Ruby could perish at this very moment with you powerless to stop anything from happening._

The woman -  Lena really had to get her name, this internal monologue was not going well when there were only so many forms of woman and mother to use – gasped at Lena in abject horror at her callous words, fire burning in her eyes and anger emanating from her person. “I’ll have you know,” She advanced towards Lena’s approximate location, “The doctors in this hospital have kept Ruby alive for far longer than you can know and have been doing a far more successful job at ensuring her safety than you have of endangering her life!”

Lena cocked her head to the side in confusion at the woman’s statements, _I’m sorry, but do you think I’m trying to kill your daughter?_

 


	2. Lena Has No Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation about Underworldian politics leads to Lena making a friend? And also realizing that her life has been pretty empty up until she met Sam(antha).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively, this chapter can be called: author needs to stop using semi-colons and em-dashes because they don't even make sense sometimes. Regardless, I tried and had a very good internal debate on how to govern dead people.

With an open mouth, the woman stared at Lena, processing her words and looking like a fish out of water while she was at it. “Aren’t you, though? You’re _Death_. Your whole shtick is killing people and taking their souls to your Underworld kingdom to languish for eternity, isn’t it? Why wouldn’t you want to kill her?”

Now it was Lena’s time to stare. _Has there been some new popular fantasy series that I haven’t heard about again that gave you this idea? I mean, this beats people waving sticks in circles at me and shouting Expecto Patronum until I got a migraine, but do you honestly think I want to kill people? I mean, if no one ever died, then it would mean I would be left without a job which means I never have to go back to Hell again! If that were true, what about that would seem unappealing to me?_

The woman with an as of yet unspecified name held her hands up in a universally (but not inter-dimensionally) placating gesture. “Have you been holding that in for a while? It seems like I wasn’t really the target of that monologue. But are you saying that you _don’t_ want to kill people?”

_Is that all you got from that?_

The woman nodded her head, “You might want to take a course on public speaking. I’m sure you don’t do this often, but it’s important to be short and to the point so people don’t get ideas from what you do or say that aren’t what you intend. And, now I’m off topic. Don’t ever do that when speaking to people. I apologize if I’ve made you rethink talking to me, but now I’m very interested in you.”

_Oh no, this is quite refreshing. Most people usually scream in terror or beg me for some kind of reprieve from their eternal misery whenever they see me. I’ve never been interrogated by someone on the mechanics of death before; you really should continue with this, Ms…_

“Oh! I apologize! I never introduced myself to you! I’m Samantha Arias, CEO of ReignCorp Technologies. And you already know about my daughter, Ruby,” Samantha pointed towards the still sleeping form of her daughter, “How did you know her name? Was it because you felt some sort of connection to her because of how close she may or may not be to dying? If so, does that mean you know everyone who’s going to die? Do you personally go to everyone that dies?”

 _No, not really._ Lena suddenly felt out of her element and quite abashed as she admitted, _I don’t know the names of those who fall under my domain. They never care to tell me and the only reason I know hers is because I heard you say it. And I couldn’t possibly get to everyone who dies. Usually only the interesting ones. My secretary, Jess, delegates the rest to my team. Is that bad? Am I too impersonal?_

Samantha thought about what to say; after all, it seemed Death incarnate was quite an insecure being. “No, I should think you are not impersonal at all – you do what you can and if other people don’t care enough to help make your job easier, it’s their fault, really,” She moved to sit herself by her daughter’s side, letting her hands rest above Ruby’s hands, “I would think that you have the right to not care very much for what everyone thinks of you – you aren’t obligated to owe them anything, but perhaps you could try to make an effort to seem concerned for their welfare if that’s really bothering you.”

_But the implied them are all, well, dead._

Nodding her head, Samantha concurred with Lena’s statement before offering up her thoughts on the matter, “Well, they are dead, but people are still people and they still have feelings. Just because they’re dead doesn’t mean they don’t deserve attention, and just because they might deserve attention doesn’t mean you have to give it to them. Although it may make people more amenable to working with you and following you orders, I don’t think it’s a necessity for a functioning Underworld.”

Despite Samantha not being able to see her, Lena nodded in agreement with her statements and entertained becoming a more receptive ruler to her subjects’ pleadings; she floated around the room, aimless, and touched certain intriguing pieces of machinery as she imagined them as the dead. Could becoming a more compassionate version of death really make people more willing to work with her?

Lena approached Samantha, raising herself up onto the bed in order to be eye level with Samantha. _How would you feel if I became more amicable? Would you appreciate my effort or would you not care? Would it have an impact on the way things happen in my world? Or is this all just some wishful thinking?_

“I’m not entirely sure, but I for one would be very happy if the person in charge of the rest of my undeath were considerate enough to make an effort and forge some kind of connection with me as ruler to subject,” Samantha offered, “However, some may not be entirely receptive to your advances if they assumed you were being courteous in order to gain some kind of leverage over them.”

_I’m not, though, right? I just want to be a better ruler and make people more willing to work with me despite whatever they may feel about my background and the fact that I collect and rule over the dead._

“It may not seem like that to some, and so you have to find a way to convince them that you only want to know who they are in order to make their lives as productive as possible while they are dead.”

Lena pouted as she thought over Samantha’s words and her response. _But I don’t want to help some of them – some are horrible human beings who deserve to rot in the depths of Tartarus for their deeds – how am I supposed to make them willing to talk with me if all I want to do is banish them into the darkest hole in the world? The only reason I wish to know some of those that come to my doors is if it would possibly help me foster a connection with them that would make them more willing to do whatever I tell them to, so what’s the point in trying to interact with those that are stuck in the truly hellish conditions if they won’t listen to what I say otherwise? I really am contradicting myself, aren’t I?_

Shrugging, Samantha nodded. “I suppose if you knew where people were going, it may be better to adjust your attitude towards them so that they’d be more willing to follow your instructions rather than go out of their way to disregard what you say. That’s what you want, right? A more functioning society of dead people.”

_But how would I adjust my attitude? I understand that you think I should try and be more compassionate to dead people, but what if that means they’re just going to spill their life story to me? Or, what if it means that they try to stick what I do into a preconceived set of practices that I don’t follow? My goal is not to be so congenial that they are the ones telling me what to do, but to nurture a type of people that are willing to do what I tell them to do without force or coercion._

“Perhaps you could try to have those working under you stay with the recently deceased until they can reorient themselves with your world and be comfortable enough in their position to not wish to leave?” Samantha tried, at a loss for how to explain governmental theories to an incarnation of death with completely different (read: nonexistent) values compared to the general populace on Earth.

 _Like your people do with prisoners in your justice system! You release them into the world but assign people to keep track of them to ensure that they stay productive members of your societies and do not cause havoc while also establishing a sense of obligation to those that made their situation possible!_ Lena connected, remembering her various experiences with those who had died under the legal system or had gone through it.

“I guess that could be an accurate analogy,” Samantha admitted, although somewhat reluctantly since something about that statement did not completely ring true with her.

_But doesn’t your country have a three-fourths chance of reoffenders?_

Struggling for an answer, Samantha looked around the room, focusing on the constant sounds of the machinery as she formulated a response. All the while, Lena stared at her face, an artist memorizing every feature of their muse as they waited for the next great inspiration to come.

“Well, you see, recidivism occurs because people have the option to act out of line with the rules expressly set in place to ensure that they do not. In your world, people _have_ to do what you say, they simply don’t have to _want_ to do what you say; it means that it generates a feeling of negativity associated with being forced to do something you don’t want to even though you have to. If you told people to constantly keep your subjects in a good mood, they will be more willing to do what you say, so you will have a more positive aura around your world that will keep people in line because they _want_ to do what they _have_ to – but they don’t notice or understand that they have to do so.”

_Fair enough. I will attempt to convince those under me to forge a connection with those I send their way. Thank you, Samantha Arias for aiding me in this political endeavor to reorganize my world._

Snorting at the ridiculousness of such language, Samantha replied, “Do you honestly talk to people like that? Please, just call me Sam. There is no need for us to be so formal with each other, especially when you are the one who will be taking my daughter to the land of the dead whenever she dies; and me, too, I suppose.”

 _Of course, Sam. I shall not call you by your full name again unless you wish me to._ It didn’t mean Lena still didn’t think of her that way, though, formality too ingrained within her upbringing.

“Speaking of my daughter, does you being here mean that she will soon die?” Samantha’s voice wavered as she spoke, nervousness and sadness clouding her voice, “If so, do you think you could give me one last chance? To say goodbye?”

Lena felt for the tendrils of life that still suffused through Ruby Arias. It did not seem like she would be letting go of life for a while yet, and Lena opened her mind to voice the thought –

“Mom?”

“Ruby?”

“You’re alive!” Samantha rushed forward to gently embrace her awakening child, the two grasping onto each other like neodymium magnets. Lena could see the tears leaking down Samantha’s face as she was faced with a still-breathing daughter that would not as of yet be leaving her.

This was a kind of familial relationship Lena had never felt before, two people bound by a love for one another that transcended fears of death; it was something she had never felt before, too consumed was her family by power and fears of working with outsiders. Moreover, Lena had never felt loved by any other, never felt the embrace that belied true caring, never understood what it felt like to have another worry for her safety.

The scene before her was too much to bear, too much to process as Lena had been touched by the feeling of what she understood to be described as friendship, too much to understand as she began to comprehend what it felt like to be loved.

That in of itself should not have scared her – she had seen lovers die together, bound together so that the other could not survive while one died, she had felt the overwhelming _feeling_ they had for each other. So then what about this made her so distinctly uncomfortable? What about watching this made her feel like a voyeur to such a tender, heartwarming scene? Why was there this crawling feeling within her that made her feel like an interloper when it was her right to be here and observe what she saw before her as the child’s fate was not yet decided?

How was she to describe such a feeling?

 _I cannot ever know what this feels like._ It was a startling revelation, but all too true.

 _I suppose this is your answer to if she shall live,_ Lena said, and fled into the abyss that was called home.

  



	3. Modern Underworldian Politics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena tries to delegate and realizes why she never even tried working with those under her before. Except for Jess. Jess is referenced in one sentence and I still like her more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on writing better and I think it's working, so if the next few chapters seem to be better, maybe I really am doing better.

Emerging into the Underworld, Lena was immediately accosted by the various souls wishing to petition her for better living (ha) conditions or some nonsense, yet Lena was surprisingly willing to listen to their pleadings.

“Please, Ms. Death, if you would just think about letting us take advantage of those in the Fields of Asphodel, we could be such productive people and make the state of living much better for those who have achieved entrance to the Isles of the Blessed, or even just Elysium! Really–”

And Lena remembered exactly why she didn’t want to listen to their complaints as some idiot, Mike or something similar, continued to pester her for permission to “employ” the use of those in Asphodel. “No, idiot. I don’t care what witless heroics let you stay in Elysium, but I am not letting you make slaves of my subjects, even if they do not have serve any purpose by being here, it doesn’t mean you can just use them for your own gain!”

“But-”

“Leave.”

Sulking, the thick-headed dumbass left to mind his own devices, leaving Lena to her thoughts. _I should really think about making the heads of each section do their job instead of making me do it all; I think that was there intended purpose when they were given to me, after all, and now I’m questioning my judgement for ignoring their use._

Groaning at her own hardheadedness and refusal to accept help, Lena raised her arms out and called to the leaders of the Fields. _COME TO ME!_

At once, four specters flew to her side, awaiting her commands.

“Yes?”

“You called?”

“I’ve been summoned?”

“Was there something you needed?”

The voices, loud and obnoxious, reminded Lena why she had reacted so negatively when presented with her four “helpers” for the first time – the were such annoying do-gooders, always trying to _help_ and be _useful_ – no wonder she had been so averse to any interactions with them. “Yes, actually, I need you help – and opinions, I suppose.”

“ReALly?!” All four voices were laced with incredulous disbelief at Lena’s proclamation, as if they couldn’t even imagine she needed their help for something; it made sense, but they didn’t have to _say_ it.

“Yes, really. I want to establish a…system, if you will among the residents here, and I need your cooperation in order to make this work. Can you help me?”

“Of course!”

“You got it!”

“Depends…”

“I can try.”

Lena sighed. “Thanks, you guys really make me so glad that you’re here to help.” She shook her head, dismissing any reservations that lingered after hearing their reactions. “I’d like to have you guys start talking with and interacting with those that fall under your jurisdiction in order to foster some sort of willingness to work with each other and with me in this world; this will make all of our existences here a much better experience, which is kind of crucial considering we will be here for the rest of eternity.”

“Hmm,” Her Head of Asphodel thought aloud, “I think I could do that -  many of those under me are just normal people, so if I could make their experience here better, maybe they’d be happier and less willing to protest their situation. Seems reasonable.”

Lena nodded thoughtfully; because her Asphodel head was a reasonable person, it wasn’t completely outside the realm of possibility that they would be willing to do what she said…

“I could try to work with them, but I’m not sure those suffering in eternal misery would be willing to be reasonable and work with me,” The Tartarus Head mused, “I would attempt to, of course, but there’s little chance that anything would come from it.”

“I expected that, so that’s fine. How about you guys?” Lena addressed the Heads of Elysium and the Isles. “Do you think you can try to work with the people that come to you?”

“I’m not sure,” the Isles Head admitted, “After all, these are people who think they’ve earned whatever they have, their position here is expected to be some type of gift for a service rendered, so they are more likely to not want to negotiate to share or work if they think it’s their prerogative to do whatever they want.”

“I agree, because Elysium is for good people who’ve done good things, so it doesn’t really make sense for them to want to have to continue doing good things when they’ve earned ultimate rest.”

Lena did not voice her thoughts, but the reasoning of the heads of the “reward” regions did not entirely make sense. After all, if the people who went there were good people, why would they complain that they had to be mildly cooperative and work with others to help make the Underworld a better place? Instead, she said, “I don’t really understand, but if that’s what you truly think, I’ll accept your judgement because you regularly interact with these people, but you still have to try, okay?”

The four before her nodded in assent, and Lena breathed a sigh of relief, continuing to lay out her plan, “So whenever you get people coming to your land, you’ll have you or someone you trust on your team meet them, ask them who they are and why they think they are where they are, and encourage them to be as productive as possible here, okay?”

“Sure, boss, but why are you suddenly interested in promoting good relationships with the people here? You used to be cold as ice with everyone, so why the sudden one-eighty?” Lena’s Elysium head questioned, hands on their hips as they posed their inquiry and postured before her.

“Because I want to have a functioning society and the first way to do that is to ensure my people are willing to work with me, okay?” Lena was used to their constant questioning of her command, but today, she was not in the mood for their impertinence. “I’ll send Jess the details and you can follow them. Send me any questions, okay?” Lena was done with the conversation and ready to think about the events in the past day, sweeping off towards her rooms to decompress after the eventful day she had just experienced.

Lena fell onto her throne with a huff, sprawling herself as ungracefully as a newborn colt, sighing and closing her eyes.

It was time for her to review the feelings that had been stirring within her and remained in all her thoughts – why had she reacted the way she had after witnessing Samantha and her daughter? What about that was so distasteful that she simply couldn’t stay and watch?  _ It's because I'm not a voyeur, _ Lena told herself,  _ I don't watch things that don't concern me and that I'm not part of - it just wouldn't be right. _

Was that truly the answer, or was Lena simply trying to make excuses for what she couldn’t understand?  _ I understood that just fine,  _ Lena thought,  _ it was a mother realizing her daughter would continue to live –  _ that’s not the problem, though!  _ The problem is that I just can’t seem to stomach the sight of such pure feeling; too much emotion is never good for anyone, me more so than anyone. But I’m not heartless,  _ Lena reasoned,  _ I don’t particularly care for it, but outward affection has never bothered me before, and yet something about that situation just didn’t mesh with me. _

Lena remembered what had been drilled into her as a young being – caring about others was a weakness, and it was that weakness that made humans different from astral powers such as herself, however those lessons did not mean Lena could not notice that the humans had done so much, experienced so much; all because they were capable of feeling.

_ Is something wrong with me that makes me susceptible to the weakness of feeling? Or is there something stronger at play, something connecting me to Samantha Arias that makes me suddenly weaker before her?  _ Lena mused, mindlessly throwing ghostly shapes into the air to entertain her as she pondered this great question,  _ there’s just something about her…it draws me to her, makes me… _ **_feel._ **


	4. Chapter 4

The moment Lena felt the all too familiarly haunting call, she tore open a portal and bolted through, ignoring the shouting of her secretary in favor of pursuing what had been nagging at her for the past few days.

“Lena-”

“Sorry, Jess, but I think there’s some important person dying, got to go, be right back!”

Lena supposed she should have felt bad – Jess was trying so hard to make everything work and she was just flying out on her, but she really couldn’t find it in herself to ever care.

She heard the tell-tale sounds of beeping that indicated the state of still being alive, followed by hushed murmurings accompanied by the sweet taste of sadness in the air.  _ Perhaps I need a ‘psychologist’ considering that I am physically incapable of deriving anything other than joy from negative emotions. _

“Death? Is that you?”

“I’m sorry ma’am, but who are you talking to? I can assure you, your daughter is still alive and well as of now, but she won’t be if you can’t decide on a treatment for her!” A voice broke through Samantha’s inquiries, grating on Lena’s nerves as it interrupted her reason for visiting.

_ Yes, Sam, it is I. _

“It’s none of your business, but you won’t be getting an answer out of me until Ruby wakes up and makes the decision – it’s her life and I am  _ not _ willfully endangering it so you can inflate your ego and prove that you can do a surgery when it has a five percent success rate!” Samantha was impassioned, a salty anger that danced across Lena’s senses as she tore into the presumed doctor beside her.

“Ah – ah, of course, it is her life, but if you don’t decide before her condition worsens, I fear there may be no chance of us resuscitating her again, so it would really be in both your best interests-”

Lena  couldn’t make out the glare Samantha levelled at the stammering physician, but by the way he fled the premises, she could hazard a guess that it was as stunningly cold as the one she had faced just days prior.  _ Good job standing up for yourself,  _ she complimented Samantha,  _ he wouldn’t have taken no for an answer and it is your decision on how the treatment should go. _

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that because you want Ruby to die?” Samantha asked warily, worrying her nails with her teeth, “Because I’m not entirely sure that was the right decision considering he’s the medical professional and not me.”

_ Oh, I’m sure,  _ Lena assured her,  _ whatever he wanted you to do, it wouldn’t have made much of a difference either way because I can tell Ruby’s still going to live for a while yet – it may even have made her already precarious condition worsen if the surgery only has a five percent success rate. _

“But her staying alive is only a temporary state, isn’t it? You don’t know when Ruby will really die and there’s a chance that this surgery could save her life!” Samantha pointed out, shaking her head and standing up to pace around the room. “I just want to do what’s best for her, but I don’t know what truly is the best decision.”

Lena offered her thoughts on the matter, carefully weighing her words so as to not offend,  _ I think you were right to let Ruby choose how she wants to handle her life; not only is your daughter old enough to understand the ramifications of her choice, but there is little chance for her to survive either way and so it should be up to her to decide how she leaves your plane. _

Samantha seemed to accept her answer, pausing in her pacing to gaze at her still daughter before moving to lean against the wall. Lena moved closer to offer her support before realizing that her form was still incorporeal and that she shouldn’t be sympathizing with anyone, not when it was her job to ruin their lives.

Although Lena as Death wasn’t supposed to be capable of feeling anything, she had seen enough grieving relatives to know that it must hurt to see loved ones so close to death’s door. What made Samantha’s situation even worse was the fact that she had to live the experience alongside Death and fear for her daughter’s life every time Lena decided to show up and watch as Ruby struggled against her mortality.

Lena knew it would be better for Samantha’s state of mind if she only came when Ruby’s time was up, when her clock had ticked down to its last second, but she had to contend with the startling number of times Ruby danced at the brink of death before ultimately prevailing. Because Lena was unwilling to let Ruby die without her there to take Ruby to the Underworld, both because she didn’t want one of her underlings to do the job and because she did not know what dawdling to take someone to the Underworld would do to their soul.

_ Is it my fault that Samantha is suffering so? She should not have to go through this pain – I wouldn’t wish this agony onto my worst enemies, and yet I am inflicting it upon someone I might deign to call a friend. What kind of person does such actions make me? But I’m not a person, I am Death. _

“You’re being awfully quiet,” Samantha noted, staring at Lena curiously, “You okay? Or is there some pressing matter that needs your attention? I would hate to be a nuisance, you know, you can really go do your business-”

Lena laughed lightly at Samantha’s not-so-subtle wording, floating as casually as she could towards Ruby,  _ actually, I’m not sure what would happen if I didn’t pick someone up or have them taken care of once they died, so I think it would be in all our best interests to stay here for a mite bit longer. _

Samantha’s eyes enlarged and as she opened her mouth to speak, Lena interrupted her once more.  _ I wouldn’t want there to be some unfortunate accident right when I leave to endanger your daughter’s life, so I think I’ll just stay here until I get the all clear. _

Cocking her head, Samantha replied cautiously, “Thank you? I think. I mean, as long as you continue to return, it means Ruby will continue to live, so I think that’s a good thing? I’m honestly confused by the mechanics of your system for dealing with dead peoples but I think this is positive?”

_ I suppose you could say that,  _ Lena admitted carefully, measuring her words to ensure she didn’t say something she couldn’t back up,  _ I don’t want to hurt anyone and my presence here means no one is being harmed, so for you I guess that would be good. _

Just as Samantha was about to voice her thoughts, she was once more interrupted by a voice providing shocking deja-vu for Lena as she recalled her reaction to what happened last time. “Mom?”

“Ruby!” Again, Samantha rushed to hug her daughter and again, Lena was struck by how much watching this scene made her want to run away and hide in her kingdom of darkness.

_No! Something this pedestrian cannot shake me so much that I am not able fulfill my whole purpose for existing!_ Lena raged against the injustice of the world that she should be struck down by an ordinarily heartwarming scene, a Gatsby privy to watching the only thing that mattered in their life leave them in a battle they couldn’t even fight.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Samantha smiled as she was faced with a still-living daughter, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” Ruby answered, muffled by her mother’s embrace, “It still hurts, though,” she admitted.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Samantha smoothed down Ruby’s hair, gazing tenderly at her daughter, “I talked with the doctors and they say they think they can help, but it’s your choice.” She smiled down at her daughter and offered what support she could. Lena was only able to stand by and hope for the best for the two.

“Will I get better?” Ruby asked, voice quiet and thoughtful, processing the information presented to her.

_ You might, _ Lena thought, forgetting that Samantha could hear her.

A pause.

“Who was that?” Ruby questioned, lifting her head towards where Lena had been witnessing the scene, lost as a fawn without its mother for guidance.

Samantha turned to glare at where she thought Lena was (she was off my a few feet) before replying, “What? I don’t think anyone else is here, Ruby. Maybe you’re just hallucinating.”

_ Really? _

Another glare, and Ruby spoke up, indignant at being dismissed so easily, “I don’t think so. There’s this woman behind you – she’s floating and maybe you didn’t see her, but you should look.” Ruby pointed at Lena’s exact location and stared at her, “She looks kind of awkward, but she’s here.”

Whipping around fast enough to give an ordinary person whiplash, Samantha turned to look at where Ruby’s finger directed. “Wher-” Freezing, Samantha’s mouth dropped open as she stared at where Lena hovered. “What in God’s name?”

Lena looked at the two of them, gaping at her, and she shifted uncomfortably, patting her body down with her hands the way she had seen other people doing. “What? Is there something wrong with me? Why are the two of you looking at me this way? It’s making me distinctly uncomfortable, why won’t you guys stop staring?”

“You…you…you’re a person?!” Samantha gasped aloud, “I thought you were just in my head!”

“What?!” Blushing indignantly, Lena shook herself before advancing towards the mother-daughter pair, “I’m one hundred and twenty-four percent real, thank you very much! I’m not a  _ person _ per-se, but I’m most certainly real and not part of your imagination.”

“Mom? What’s going on? Do you guys know each other, or is there something else going on here?” Ruby asked, still confused by the back-and-forth interactions occurring before her, although she seemed to know more than Samantha, at least.

" Baby, I’m not sure, but you just let me handle this, okay? This…woman and I have talked a couple times about your condition and she might provide some insight onto the rest of your life and the possibility of you getting out of here.” Reassuring her daughter, Samantha glared at Lena, her expression reminiscent of what she looked like the first time Lena had visited them.

Lena nodded her head to concur with Samantha, directing her next words to Ruby, “I’m Lena Luthor,” she said, introducing herself with a proffered hand that Ruby hesitantly accepted, smiling nervously in return to Lena’s bright and assured one, “Your mother and I have been discussing how we can help you get your life back on track and away from the hospital, but first you need to decide on the next course of treatment.”

"I have to decide?” Ruby asked, sounding fragile and delicate despite the resilience she had shown in the face of her illness, as if a simple tap would make her shatter like glass.

“It’s your life,” Samantha said, laying her hand on Ruby’s shoulder, trying to convey the trust and respect she felt for Ruby’s decisions and independence as a person.

Lena agreed with her and added on, “We’re not going to try to force you to make any decisions that you may not want to make, we just want to let you know your options and try to help you make the best decision for you.”

Ruby nodded, furrowing her brows as she descended into deep thought while Samantha and Lena smiled as reassuringly as they could. “So what are my options, then?”

“Well,” Lena started, before noticing Samantha start her own sentence, “Well your mother is going to explain.” She nodded to Samantha, signaling her to continue.

“Alright, well, you see, the doctors think they have a surgery that might be able to take out all the bad stuff inside of you; the only problem is that this surgery has an extraordinarily low success rate and not many people are even qualified to do it, so we’d have to find a surgeon willing to try it out.”

“Which really isn’t the problem,” Cutting in, Lena deigned to explain the real issue, “We have doctors willing to give it a try, but again, no one’s every succeeded and the doctor who offered is extremely ambitious and we don’t know if he has your best interests are heart or simply wants to prove that he’s capable of handling such a thing.”

Agreeing, Samantha concluded, “We’re not sure if he’s trustworthy enough to trust with something like your life if all he’s after is the fame, but it’s always your choice if you want to go through with this.”

“But why is Ms. Luthor here?” Ruby questioned, “Why does she need to be here?”

A momentary pause as Lena tried to formulate a response, but Samantha thankfully jumped in, “Well, Ms. Luthor is here because she’s a medical expert in cases such as yours, and she’s offering her advice on the situation.”

“Yes, right, that’s why I’m here. If you have any questions, you can count on me!” Thoughts racing, Lena recalled any times she had interacted with or noticed a medical professional enough to understand their craft. There was the journalist who had been vying for a Pulitzer with their research on experimental drugs…there was also that one time she had to listen to a long winded explanation of the weakness certain humans had to lead due to some kind of genetic mutation…and that one girl who was paralyzed for most of her life after her brother’s attempt to help her failed…really Lena didn’t know much, but maybe she could find someone to ask… “Yes? Ah, what did you need?” She was shaken out of her thoughts upon hearing the name she had given herself repeatedly spoken.

Samantha, the traitor, sounded horribly amused as she repeated her words, “Ruby wants to know what her chances of surviving are without the surgery, and your opinion on what will happen if she decides to go for it.”

Thinking on the spot, Lena made up a story and prayed it would not come back and bite her, “Well, if the surgery does work, you have a good chance of making nearly a full recovery. If it doesn’t, however, you’ll have the same fate as if you never had the surgery – you’ll die. The thing about not attempting the procedure is that you may live longer if you don’t try. Really, it’s what you would rather. Live a tad longer in the hospital and die, die quickly, or have a chance of living a normal life,” Lena explained, hesitating before throwing in her two cents, “If I were you, I would seriously consider the surgery as a viable option because you’re young and deserve the chance at a normal life.”

Samantha did not seem too happy with Lena’s statement, but did not try to make a contradictory statement, instead folding her arms together and standing up, moving over to stand by Lena’s side.

Ruby, on the other hand, gave the impression of someone who placed faith in the opinion of professionals and so was willing to side with their judgement, which was not what Lena wanted. “I’m not completely familiar with the details of your operation, though, so my opinion may not be all too reliable,” Lena scrambled to remedy Ruby’s overt faith in her, “I’ll have to look over the details before providing a fully comprehensive report.”

“Of course,” Ruby tilted her head in question, “Why are you doing this, though? It’s not like people pay for services like yours, is it?”

At this, Samantha once more stepped in to relieve Lena of the direct question, “Ms. Luthor is a kind woman who works for a nonprofit that provides aid in the form of experts who can help patients make the best decisions for themselves rather than the best decisions for the doctors. You should be very glad that there is a group of people willing to help other people like this.”

“That’s a thing?” Both Lena and Ruby asked before Lena recovered from her shock and smoothly added, “Of course that’s a thing – I wouldn’t describe it in such words, but your mother is absolutely right because that is totally what I do, helping people make important life decisions.” The irony of such a declaration did not escape Lena, nor did it escape Samantha, who smothered a giggle behind the palm of her hand.

Although she did not seem entirely convinced, Ruby accepted Lena’s explanation for her outburst before addressing her mother, “What was it that Ms. Luthor was saying before, that she was a person and very real? She looks real…I mean, I can see her and all.”

Samantha struggled to formulate her answer, which gave Lena the perfect opportunity to jump in, and she did, sliding smoothly like greased gears into the conversation, “You happened to wake up into a conversation your mother and I were having about whether or not my feelings applied to your situation, which let me tell you, they do. Just because it’s not my life doesn’t mean I can’t develop attachments to my charges.”

“I’m sure,” Samantha muttered under her breath, “You must be really attached to all those under your care.”

Lena turned to glare at Samantha’s undermining of her reassurances, “I’m trying to care, and sometimes I do get attached, okay? I’m invested in how this plays out because you’re both good people who do not deserve your lots in life.”

“And that’s why you’re doing this job instead of finding the cure for cancer, I suppose?” Samantha asked, a smirk playing at the edge of her lips as she teased Lena.

“I can do that in my free time,” Lena rebutted, enjoying the casual banter between her and Samantha, “But I enjoy my work, even if it’s not as revolutionary as other things people in my field are doing. After all, I’m given the opportunity to help people.”

Lena wondered, was helping people live longer really helping them? They all eventually died at some point, so what was the difference between dying now or ten years down the line? She supposed it had something to do with being able to experience more and enjoy more of their life, but what if those ten years were absolutely miserable? At what stage was it no longer helping but instead intensifying and drawing out their agony? Did she enjoy helping people? Was there some form of personal satisfaction to be gained by helping a race of mostly ungratefully entitled people that she should be aware of?

_ Even if there is an explanation for why I should want to help people, I really don’t want to – it’s nothing against them, but I have no obligation to, so why should I? _ “If that’s all, I have other people to take care of,” Lena bid the two a short goodbye as she pondered the thought, stepping out of the hospital, out of sight, and into her world.


End file.
